


three kisses, one person

by avalanches



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Cheating, M/M, Not Fluff, Recreational Drug Use, Suicide, happy new year guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 17:15:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9133630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avalanches/pseuds/avalanches
Summary: Jeonghan and Seungcheol kissed three times, on three New Year's Eves.





	

**Author's Note:**

> happy new year! decided to write a little something to end off 2016 and start 2017 for my first kpop otp that i wrote fanfiction for! 2016 has its ups and downs, but we have all survived aye! 
> 
> dedicated to all my SVT mutuals on TL; i'm so blessed to know every single one of you.

The first New Year’s Eve they spent together, they were dating other people.

 

Jisoo and Jihoon attended the same church, and Jeonghan had been dragged along to contribute his bass playing skills to the last night worship of the year. Seungcheol had picked Jihoon up, and Jisoo had suggested that they spend the night together in his apartment. Jihoon had agreed, his small face pink from the cold, fingers tightly wrapped around Seungcheol’s.

 

Jeonghan had no objections, so he agreed.

 

He was seated in front of TV, which was showing the countdown on music shows to the new year, but the sound was muted. The people on the floor above were having a party, the bass thudding through the ceiling, but the sound was muffled and Jeonghan wouldn’t care less. Seungcheol was seated beside him, a space big enough to fit another person in between them, his fingers buried in Jihoon’s lap. The smaller boy was curled up in Jisoo’s armchair, soft snores puffing from him, his face buried in Seungcheol’s jacket.

 

The clock had struck midnight, the cheers upstairs had intensified, and the fireworks blasted across the silent television screen.

 

Jeonghan didn’t know what made him do it, but somehow, Seungcheol had untangled his fingers from Jihoon’s and slid a little closer to him. Jisoo had gone to bed, tired from running around his church all day and leading the night worship. They had sat there, leaning against the couch, their hands less than an inch from each other, the light from the television screen reflecting off Seungcheol’s high cheekbones and bright eyes.

 

He certainly didn’t recall who leaned in first.

 

Seungcheol tasted like honey and oranges, with an underlying hint of bitter chocolate.

 

They had broken apart, Seungcheol’s eyes wet in the dim light, and Jeonghan had stood up and headed towards the bathroom like a robot. He had splashed water on his face, pulled his hair out of the ponytail before climbing into bed with Jisoo. His boyfriend had merely pulled him closer, dug his nose into his cheek, and didn’t stir a single bit at all.

 

Jeonghan didn’t sleep a wink that night, the vestiges of honey, oranges and dark chocolate on his tongue keeping him awake.

 

\---

 

The second New Year’s Eve was a bit more noisy.

 

Jeonghan had been invited to Junhui’s party, the first that he had thrown since he had gotten engaged to Minghao. Jisoo was back in America visiting family, and honestly somewhere along the way, Jeonghan had stopped bothering with consistent texts and skype calls. The party was wild, booze and red cups everywhere, and Seokmin had immediately pushed a drink into his hands the instance he stepped through the door.

 

Jeonghan didn’t remember how much he drank, or how many Jell-O shots he did off the table. He remembered laughing at Seungkwan’s awful jokes, Wonwoo’s bony elbow digging into his stomach, but other than that he didn’t remember much.

 

He remembered stumbling onto the balcony, the cool wind hitting his face, the smell of cannabis hitting his nostrils. He turned around, his vision blurry and his head spinning, and he thought he was dreaming right there in an expensive penthouse in Seoul.

 

Seungcheol was leaning against the railing, a blunt between his fingers, smoke curling out of his lips, stark against the black backdrop of the night.

 

Jeonghan thought he looked beautiful.

 

The screaming had intensified, the fireworks had exploded in his ears, and Seungcheol dropped his blunt, cupped his face, his eyes hooded.

 

He tasted less of honey, more of the dark chocolate, with a tangier undertone to the oranges.

 

Jeonghan had stumbled away, ignoring the dark look in Seungcheol’s eyes, locked himself in the bathroom where he proceeded to throw up all the contents of his stomach. His forehead pressed against the cool ceramic of the expensive toilet bowl of Junhui’s bathroom, he pulled out his phone with shaky fingers, squinting at the bright screen as he unlocked it.

 

He texted Jisoo “happy new year <3” and flushed his phone down the toilet bowl with his vomit, not even checking whether the message had been sent.

 

The bitterness and sourness of Seungcheol’s mouth still lingered on his tongue.

 

\---

 

The third New Year’s Eve, Jeonghan found him at the rooftop of his apartment.

 

Seungcheol was still beautiful, from his hooded eyes to his highcheekbones, and his legs are swung dangerously over the ledge as he chugged from a can of beer. There are dozens of bottles and cans littered around him, and he was clad only in a wifebeater despite the biting chill of the night air.

 

Jeonghan didn’t know what made him pick up a can of beer and swing his legs over the ledge, but he did it, sitting down beside Seungcheol. He popped open the can, took a swig, and looked over the bright city lights of the Seoul.

 

Their breaths frosted in the chill of the air, and Jeonghan caught the scent of dark chocolate as Seungcheol opened his mouth to let out a sigh.

 

“Jihoon broke up with me.”

 

Jeonghan didn’t respond, he only clutched his beer can a little tighter. He remembered the disappointed look in Jisoo’s face as Jeonghan stood there in his apartment, all his belongings packed into his suitcase, his hand tight on the handle. He didn’t remember any regret, he only remembered dark hair falling into hooded eyes, smears of red on high cheekbones, and a mix of oranges, honey and dark chocolate on his tongue.

 

He had looked up at Seungcheol, shrugged, and moved closer so that their knees bumped together. The other had looked up at him through his eyelashes, his lips pale, his cheekbones catching the glare of the artificial lights around them.

 

Jeonghan thought he looked breathtaking in the dead of the night.

 

He leaned forward, ghosted his lips over Seungcheol’s, and after that it was a whirlwind of touch and taste. His fingers gripped the firm muscles that were Seungcheol’s arms, anchoring him to reality, and he couldn’t tell where he started and where Seungcheol ended. The other man devoured his mouth like a hurricane, plundering all the niches and nooks, and the bruising grip on his hips was the best chain that he had ever let tie him down willingly.

 

He didn’t hear the fireworks in the sky, didn’t hear the screams echoing through the streets, didn’t hear the buzz of his phone tucked in his back pocket.

 

When Seungcheol pulled away, Jeonghan thought that he was still beautiful, even with cheeks hallowed out from excessive smoking, eyebags heavy from lack of sleep, and his hair greasy from the lack of washing. He was a pale god, carved out from marble and porcelain against the black of the night skyline, a stark outline against the dimmed specks of stars in the backdrop.

 

He was beautiful, just like the day three years ago when he kissed Jeonghan in the silence of Jisoo’s apartment, their only witness the glare of dim television light.

 

Seungcheol’s fingers wound tightly around his, and he leaned up to taste the honey, oranges and dark chocolate on Seungcheol’s bottom lip. He closed his eyes, committing the taste to memory, put it in a box at the back of his head labeled “Jeonghan’s favourite things”.

 

They broke apart,Seungcheol chasing his lips for one more, and Jeonghan ignored the buzzing of his phone, ignored the many messages flooding into his inbox peppered with excessive emojis and exclamation marks.

 

He thought he could survive just by kissing Seungcheol like this.

 

Hands still entwined, they pushed off, the colourful city lights welcoming them.

 

 _happy new year_ , Jeonghan thought.

  



End file.
